WWE Reality TV
by TheSuperiorUso
Summary: *A PARODY* 36 of your favorite WWE and NXT superstars are locked in one house! Who will leave? Who will survive? Who will win? You guys, the viewers, have the power to vote out who they want out of the house through leaving a review!


**This version does NOT depict the actual personalities of the thirty six superstars and seven hosts. A real version will be written, and it will be found on my profile. This story is just for comic relief. This is meant to be a** _ **PARODY.**_

* * *

YEEEEEEEAH

WWE REALITY TV YEEEEEEEEEAH

COME PARTY WITH {Lana, Kofi Kingston, Brie Bella, Brock Lesnar, Hideo Itami, The Undertaker, and The Miz} ME

[Whenever a superstar walks in, their theme song starts playing]

* * *

 _Audience POV_

"Welcome to WWE Reality TV! I am one of your hosts, Lana!"

"And I'm Kofi Kingston! We trapped thirty six of your favorite WWE superstars in one house, and we all expect chaos to ensue!"

"Now here is the list of all of the superstars that will take part in WWE Reality TV!"

 _Roman Reigns  
Dean Ambrose  
Seth Rollins  
Randy Orton  
John Cena  
Jimmy Uso  
Jey Uso  
Tyson Kidd  
Cesaro  
Adam Rose  
Batista  
Big Show  
Big E  
Dolph Ziggler  
Kane  
Ryback  
Curtis Axel  
Luke Harper  
Bray Wyatt  
Erick Rowan  
Goldust  
Stardust  
Jack Swagger  
Daniel Bryan  
Samoa Joe *NXT*  
Kevin Owens *NXT*  
R Truth  
Wade Barrett  
Neville  
Sting  
Triple H  
Bo Dallas  
Rusev  
Fandango  
Sawyer Fulton *NXT*  
Angelo Dawkins *NXT*_

" _Romance…betrayal…friendship…revenge…cults…bands...crawling through the air vents…_ " The Miz added, gazing off into the distance with a look of pure wonder in his eyes. "That is what WWE Reality TV is all about!"

"Remember; after each episode, you guys get to decide which superstar you want voted out of the house," Brie told the audience.

"We also have some guys from NXT representing us! Even the champion, Kevin Owens!" Hideo said with pride.

"So let's get started!" Lana shouted happily. "It's time for WWE Reality TV!"

* * *

 _Randy's POV_

"… _We have arrived,_ " the voices in my head tell me.

I don't know who they are. All I know is that I hear them, they council me, they understand, and they talk to me. And they have a strong Irish accent, but I don't think that is a really significant thing.

I start walking towards this huge house that towers over me. The walls are a bland white color, with the triangular roof sporting the red color of my enemies' blood. The wide house has several white marble pillars on the outsides. Above the red double-doors is a banner that reads, 'WWE REALITY TV! YEEEAAAAH!' I can see several dark figures moving through the black-tainted windows. Judging by its height, there are at least four floors.

I approach this house on its bright green lawn, getting closer to the marble steps that lead to the inside.

" _Go inside, Randy,_ " the voice says in an eerie tone. " _Your future awaits you, young one._ "

Once I get up the marble steps, I slowly open the red doors, only to have what seems like a thousand voices blast at me.

"I HEAR VOICES IN MY HEAD THEY COUNCIL ME THEY UNDERSTAND THEY TALK TO ME!"

"Uh…what was that?" I mutter. It sounds similar to my entrance music.

I turn to see a blond-headed figure emerge from another doorway.

"I'M HERE TO SHOW THE WORLD I'M HERE TO SHOW THE WORLD COME ON BRING IT ON!"

"It happens whenever someone walks into a room, Randy," Dolph tells me. "So you better get used to it."

"That's gonna get annoying…" I respond, turning away from Dolph.

Unfortunately, all that greets my line of sight is Brock Lesnar.

The Beast sits at a table, holding a clipboard. He seems to be jotting down some notes, but he ceases once he realizes that I'm staring at him in utter confusion.

"Hey, Brock. Why isn't your theme song playing?" I ask him.

I strain to hear his reply, due to the constant barrage of theme songs playing in the background.

Brock simply glares at me. "It's because I'm a host, you idiot," he replies coldly.

"You're the Beast. I don't think beasts are meant to be carrying clipboards," I say inquisitively.

"…It's just a list."

"Of what?"

"The rooming arrangements."

I give Brock a sideways glance. "Can I see 'em?"

Brock merely grunts, throwing the clipboard at me.

I pick up the fallen clipboard and look at what it contains. The paper on it reads:

 _-ROOMING ARRANGEMENTS-_

 _Stardust, Bo Dallas *F2*  
Samoa Joe, Dean Ambrose *F2*  
Erick Rowan, Daniel Bryan *F2*  
Neville, Big E *F2*  
Kane, Big Show *F2*  
Angelo Dawkins, Seth Rollins *F2*  
Ryback, Sting *F3*  
Fandango, Dolph Ziggler *F3*  
Wade Barrett, Rusev *F3*  
Cesaro, Luke Harper *F3*  
Batista, John Cena *F3*  
Randy Orton, Goldust *F3*  
Kevin Owens, Bray Wyatt *F4*  
Triple H, Roman Reigns *F4*  
Tyson Kidd, Curtis Axel *F4*  
Jack Swagger, Sawyer Fulton *F4*  
Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso *F4*  
R-Truth, Adam Rose *F4*_

Before I can comprehend any of this, Brie Bella walks in. Her usual smile is plastered on her face.

"I can show you to your room if you want, Randy," she offers hospitably.

"That'd be nice," I say with a warming smile pulling at the corners of my lips.

"Great! Just follow me," Brie says enthusiastically, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the stairs to the next floor. "Let's see…you're on the third floor, if I'm not mistaken."

We head up the stairs to the second floor, walking at a leisurely pace. Once we get to the second floor, however, I notice how Brie starts to speed up. She pulls me even harder through the hall until we get to the next flight of stairs. I decide not to question her about her strange behavior.

Brie and I approach a brown-colored door. In bold silver letters on a golden plaque, it reads, ' **RANDY ORTON & GOLDUST**'.

" _Don't wait for Brie. Open the door, Randy. Your destiny is inside,_ " the voice prompts me.

* * *

 _Roman's POV_

"Are you from Tennessee? Because you're the only ten _I_ see!"

Dean is up to his usual antics. So far, he's flirted with about two-thirds of all of the superstars here. I roll my eyes as I watch him use a generic one-liner on R-Truth.

I walk into the kitchen where Dean is, my theme music playing as I do so.

"DUH DUH. DUH DUH. DUH DUH. DUH. DUH."

I pull Dean away from a flustered R-Truth.

"Can you _stop_ flirting with everyone for one second?" I scold him.

"That's just what I do! Besides, I've been paired with almost every single guy in the locker room. I've read the fanfics. I'm just trying to get a rise out of someone with all of these pickup lines." Dean turns back towards R-Truth. "Hey, Truth! Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"

After giving me a long and hopeful glance, R-Truth runs out of the kitchen.

"WHAT'S UP!? WHAT'S UP?!" plays as he exits.

"You scared off another one, Dean."

"Yeah, yeah! I wonder if there's anyone here who'll actually respond to me instead of running away. Hey, I can see Brock out there…all alone…"

"Dean. _No_."

"Dean YES!"

Dean runs out of the kitchen, similar to how R-Truth did, except he wasn't terrified and confused.

*RRRRRRRRRRRRRRR DEAN'S THEME SONG *

From the kitchen, I watch as Lana walks into the house and picks up a microphone. Her voice blares through every speaker in the house.

"May I have your attention, please? All superstars must report to the common room for a very important meeting. Thank you!"

As I walk into the common room, many of the entrance themes play at once, resulting in some sort of horrible remix.

"YOU'RE TIME IS UP, MY TIME IS NOW!"

"I HEAR VOICES IN MY HEAD-"

"WHEN WE SAY 'UCE', Y'ALL SAY 'OH'!"

"WHAT'S UP!? WHAT'S UP?!"

"I'M HERE TO SHOW THE WORLD I'M HERE TO SHOW THE WOOOOOORLD-"

"WEEEEEEELLLELELELELLELLL IZZA BIG SHOW!"

"FEED. ME. MORE!"

"BOOM!"

After about five more minutes of theme songs blasting as everyone walks in, it appears as if all of the other guys are in the room.

"Hello, everyone!" Lana shouts with a smile. "I hope all of you like the house so far. We put a lot of work into it! Anyway, I have called you all to this common room so you can make a very important decision! You guys are going to elect the leader of the house!"

Hideo Itami, who is also in the room, hands everyone slips of paper. The Undertaker hands us pencils. I never thought that 'The Undertaker hands us pencils' would ever be something that anyone would think of.

Not having a single idea on who to vote for, I quickly write down 'Cesaro' on the slip of paper and place on the table, where everyone else puts their votes.

Once everyone is done writing, the hosts start counting the slips of paper, placing them into piles. There are two huge piles and two single slips that make their own piles.

"Hmm…It appears that there is a tie in the voting!" Lana announces. "So I guess that we have to have to leaders, just so no one's feelings get hurt. So as your leaders, you have elected…Jey Uso and Roman Reigns!"

* * *

 _Jey's POV_

"So as your leaders, you have elected…Jey Uso and Roman Reigns!"

A leader? Me? Almost everyone voted for me?

Ha, who's the superior Uso now?

As expected, my bro Jimmy immediately starts flipping out.

"NO! NAH! NAAAAAH! _I'M_ THE SUPERIOR USO! ME! I AM! I SHOULD BE THE LEADER! MY NAME IS ALWAYS SAID _FIRST!_ " Jimmy stands up from the couch he sat on and flips over the table. "THAT'S WHAT I THINK OF Y'ALL!"

"…As a flipped-over table?" someone from the crowd of superstars asks.

"NAAAAAAAH! THIS IS ABSOLUTE MALARKEY!"

"Bruh, you need to chill!" I try to convince Jimmy, but he doesn't listen to a word that comes out of my mouth.

"Y'KNOW WHAT?! I'M DONE! THAT'S RIGHT, DONE! YOU GUYS ARE UUUUGGGGGHHHH! YOU'VE INSULTED THE SUPERIOR USO!"

Jimmy proceeds to walk out of the house, repeatedly cursing as he does so. After he walks out of the door, a choir could be heard singing in the distance, similar to how everyone's theme song plays once they walk in.

"BYE BYE JIMMYYYYYYYYYY!" the choir sings in an ominous tone.

"…That is what happens whenever someone leaves," Lana assures us, looking out towards the door where Jimmy had left.

"This…this is where the betrayal happens," The Miz says, looking off into the distance. "Jimmy has left his poor brother to perish in this house of absolute malarkey. What is in store now for the lone Jey Uso? Find out…next!"

"Wait, we're ending it?" Lana asks, clearly confused with the Miz's narration.

The Miz turns back to the Ravishing Russian. "No. But this is a good time to tell the audience that people don't always quit around here, but you have the power to vote them off. You just need to leave a review every two episodes! Not everyone has been introduced yet, so we're giving you time to get your thoughts together."

"Well that is all that we have to say right now. You are now free to roam around the house," Lana informs us.

"Wait! I have something to say!" I abruptly shout, getting everyone's attention. I pick up the table that Jimmy flipped over and stand on it. "I've always been the quiet Uso. The omega Uso. The Uso that no one cares about. But, I couldn't open up and cry, because I've been silent all my life. I feel numb most of the time. And the lower I get, the higher I climb. But- Jimmy has always been an obstacle in the road to my success. Today, my friends, I've seen the light. I wonder why I got dark only to shine. I've been looking for the golden light. Jimmy was a reasonable sacrifice. But now… now… I am complete. I. I AM THE SUPERIOR USO. Henceforth and forever more. Thank you, everyone."

"…Aren't those Marina and the Diamonds lyrics?" Bo asks me, completely disregarding the amazing speech I had just given.

"Yes, but you have missed the point! I am now the more respectable Uso! The alpha Uso! The Uso that everyone cares about! You guys care about me so much that you decided to elect me as one of your leaders!"

"Who cares? Who wants to play FOOTBALL?!" Bo asks the crowd, ripping off his shirt to reveal complete football gear. He pulls a football out from underneath his shirt.

"No! WRESTLING!" Sawyer Fulton exclaims, throwing an arm up in the air.

"But guys! I am the superior Uso! Love me!"

* * *

 _Jack Swagger's POV_

I'm really late.

I walk into the house, only to here chants of "WRESTLING!" "FOOTBALL!" and "USO!" fill the common room.

The sudden burst of my entrance music ceases the shouts.

"DERRRRR DER DER DER DER DER DERRRR DER DER DER. DERRRRR DER DER DER DER DER DER. DER. DER!"

Everyone in the room stops and turns to me.

"You're late, Jack!" Kofi scolds, a clear look of anger upon his face. "Where were you?!"

"…My classes went late. I am terribly sorry. Being late is against the Constitution." I walk further into the room.

"I'm about to give you some cruel and unusual punishment," Dean says with a wink, mocking the Constitution. Roman proceeds to superman-punch his friend in the mouth.

"What kind of classes, Jack?" Daniel Bryan asks, intrigued.

"…Uh, y'know. Dance classes. Whipping, to be specific."

Daniel Bryan gasps, his eyes igniting with a flame of wonder. "I have to speak with you later, Jack." He walks out of the common room, his music faintly playing as he opens another door.

"Can someone, like, catch me up on what's happening here?" I ask the group.

Everyone starts talking at once. I mostly hear shouts of "USO!" "FOOTBALL!" and "WRESTLING!".

I call on Jey Uso, since he clearly seems enthused to explain what has happened so far.

"Well, the Undertaker handed us pencils. We then wrote on paper supplied by Hideo and voted for who would be most suited as the house leader. And I WON! So did Roman, but I AM THE SUPERIOR USO NOW! JIMMY IS LONG GONE! And Bo Dallas said that he doesn't care…and he wants to play football instead! But Sawyer Fulton, oh, he has a burning passion for WRESTLING!"

"Hmm…I think that Bo and Sawyer should have a match to decide what's better- Football or wrestling."

"Doesn't that just mean that WRESTLING is better?" Sawyer asks.

* * *

 _Kofi's POV_

 _They don't know me…_

 _Where I stand…_

 _Who I am…_

 _They know my name…but not my story…_

 _But soon, they'll know…_

 _Marketing…_

* * *

 _Dolph's POV_

After most of the superstars leave the common room, only a small group remains. Out of this group, however, is a man. A British man.

"BLOOOOOOOODDDDYYYY AMERICAAAAAANNNNNSSS!" Wade Barrett screams, flailing his arms.

Clearly, he seems to be enjoying what America has to offer. He wears the typical Hawaiian shirt of a tourist, cargo shorts, and those tourist shoes. You know the ones. He also sports Mickey Mouse ears on his head and a Disney mist fan around his neck.

"Hey, chill, man!" I try to convince him as he flails around the room. "It's too bad that America's too good!"

Wade turns to me, a look of British anger on his face. "YOU BLOODY STUPID DOLPH ZIGGLAH! YOU SHOWOFF! RAMEN NOODLE HEADED BLOODY AMERICAN! I RECKON THIS OUGHT TO TEACH YOU A LESSON!"

Before I could respond, Wade unleashes his fury on me, aggressively spraying his mist fan in my face. Being the showoff that I am, I deflect the cool sprays of water with my bare hands. The mist bounces off of my palms and charges towards Wade's British face.

"AAAAAHHHHHHH! AMERICAN WITCHCRAFT!" Wade screams. Once again, he pulls out his mist fan, attempting to spray me. Unfortunately, I'm caught off guard, and I'm not able to deflect the sprays…

But Lana is.

She hops in front of me, as if in slow motion, kicking the mist away with the bottom of her shoe. Wade is taken aback by the Ravishing Russian's agile movements.

"AAAAAAHHHHHH! YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS, ZIGGLAH AND LANA!" Wade promises as he darts off into the kitchen, probably going to spray more helpless American wrestlers with his trusty mist fan.

* * *

 _Neville's POV_

"GODDAMN IT! I CAN'T FIND BIG E!"

Expecting to find my roommate in our room, I am greeted by emptiness.

Big E is nowhere to be found. I had looked on all four floors of this house, and there is still no sign of the muscular guy.

Being the 'Man that Gravity Forgot', I proceed to effortlessly glide around the hallways, shouting the name of the missing New Day member.

But instead of running into the missing one, I run into the other one.

"Kofi! Have you seen Big E? I can't find him anywhere!" I complain to the host.

Kofi looks up at me, a tear in his eye. "…He's long gone, Neville. _Long gone_. Gone to places that not even you can imagine."

"But he's my roommate! He can't just disappear like that!"

"…I know of _one_ place you can look, Neville…It will be a long and horrible journey, but it will be worth it for the destination."

"What is this place you speak of?"

After a dramatic pause, Kofi mutters the one word: " _Zimbabwe_."

* * *

 _Sawyer Fulton's POV_

Despite my miraculous efforts, Bo Dallas was too much for me to handle.

Wrestling is my passion. It's all I've ever known. Most people may not know me, but I'm perfectly fine with that. For those who don't know, allow me to introduce myself.

My name is Sawyer Fulton, and I am a wrestler for NXT. You may call me a jobber, and yes, that's my current status in the business. Just that one guy that's there to make Baron Corbin or Tyler Breeze or Finn Balor look stronger.

At house shows, though, it's a completely different story. I am actually given a personality to work with. They dubbed me the 'WRESTLING' guy. All I do is shout 'WRESTLING' at completely random moments and throw my hand up in the air.

It doesn't matter, because I'm usually beaten anyway.

In this case, after Bo Dallas gave me a beat down, I'm now in the room of Tyson Kidd.

You may not know it, but Tyson Kidd has a medical degree. He is a world-renowned doctor, known for being one of the best in the business. Here he is now, tending to my injured ankle.

"Looks like you've got a hairline fracture, Sawyer," Tyson informs me, "but I'll order an x-ray for you and get you a cast, and then you'll be good to go."

"Aww, am I going to have to lay off on WRESTLING?!"

"…Yes."

Tyson Kidd, outside of the ring, is an unusually sophisticated soul. Unlike all of the other superstars here, who have an actual character, all he does is heal the injured.

He begins wrapping a thing around my ankle, tightening it. "Pressure will help it heal," he tells me, continuing to wrap the green thing around my injured body part.

"Thanks, man. You're a real bro."

"Don't call me a 'bro'. Now…from what I can hear, I think there's something going on downstairs. I'm gonna go take a look…" Tyson Kidd stands up from his chair, similar to an office chair, and walks out of his room, leaving me locked in there.

* * *

 _Adam Rose's POV_

"COME WATCH THE HIGH-QUALITY ENTERTAINMENT! ONLY SEVEN NINETY-FIVE FOR ADMISSION!"

I'm Adam Rose, a _salesman_! I've always been a _salesman_ , and I always will be a _salesman_! It's my secret outside-the-ring gimmick, and it makes me more money than being a jobber does, I'll tell you that much!

I sit here in my handmade booth, selling tickets to the show being taken place in the home theater room. Everyone is piling up at my booth, buying tickets for the show.

"Hello, Mr. Rose!" Lana greets happily, handing me my $7.95. "I cannot wait for the high-quality entertainment!"

"Trust me, you'll be pleased!" I assure her. She smiles at me and walks over to get a seat.

" _There will only be seven planets left after I destroy Uranus_ ," Dean says smoothly, slipping me a good $10. Roman Reigns then speared him, fed up with his usual antics.

"Um…thank you?" I respond, confused on what the lunatic fringe was trying to accomplish.

"Sorry about that, Adam. You know Dean," Roman apologizes, handing me $8.

"No problem! I'm used to it by now. Have fun at the show!" I say with glee, waving to them as they grab seats.

The Undertaker trudged up to the booth, a look of sadism on his face.

"Yes, Mark?" I ask. He cringes upon hearing his real name.

"…I have no money…"

"Oh, I'm sorry, then you'll have to-"

"I can give you twenty pencils instead." The Undertaker opened up his long coat, revealing a drug-dealer-esque scene. His inner pockets were full of a variety of pencils.

"I don't want any pencils. I want money."

"TWENTY OR NONE, ROSE! TWENTY OR NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE!" The Undertaker yells, silencing the whole room.

"Okay! Okay! You can just go in! Jeez!" I rush him, waving him out of the room.

"Yes! The Superior Uso finally has access to some high quality entertainment!" Jey Uso exclaims, handing me $7.96.

"Enjoy the show, newfound leader!" I say encouragingly, watching him grab a seat in the front row.

Half of the people in the house and four hosts, excluding Brie Bella, Brock Lesnar, and Kofi Kingston, had bought their tickets and are now sitting in the home theater, waiting for the high quality entertainment to start.

I grab a seat in the back row next to Wade Barrett, who's murmuring to himself.

"Bloody Americans…bloody Dolph Zigglah…bloody Lana…" he groans, fiddling with his mist fan. Once he catches me staring at him with confusion, in a flash, he whips out his fan and sprays me in the face.

"Hey! What was that for?!" I yell, not appreciating what he has just done to my beautiful face.

Before Wade Barret can make up a British comeback, the lights in the home theater are dimmed, and a single spotlight lights up the small wooden stage.

On that stage is a muscular man in a grey suit. He seems to be holding something, since his arms can't be seen. And then, the man turns around…

It's…CESARO!

"Welcome, everyone, to the high quality entertainment!" he exclaims. The most noticeable thing about him is that he has Seth Rollins in a hold, setting up for the Cesaro Swing.

"I never agreed to this!" Seth shouts, struggling to release himself from the King of Swing's grip.

"But you-" a stray voice in the audience shouts, before quickly being interrupted by Cesaro.

"Time for the high quality entertainment to begin!" Cesaro starts to slowly spin, but as time passes, he begins speeding up.

It goes on for half an hour.

During that time, most people are watching in tedium, some have already left, and Seth is yelling at Cesaro for him to stop. The only one who is into it is R-Truth, since he is holding some sort of grudge against the world heavyweight champion.

This is going to be horrifying.

* * *

 **Hello, guys!**

 **THIS IS A PARODY, I SWEAR IT'S ALL A JOKE AAAAAHHHHH!**

 **I guess I should explain why I added Sawyer Fulton and Angelo Dawkins to this story, right?**

 **Well, I went to an NXT house show a while back, and one of the matches was those two facing each other. All Sawyer Fulton did was yell 'WRESTLING!' and throw his arm up into the air. It's a shame that he doesn't get any attention on the main show.**

 **Angelo Dawkins, on the other hand, was doing some sort of weird thing. He did this weird gesture with his hands, like he was stirring soup or something, and then BAM! A gummy worm showed up in his hands. So basically, he was generating gummy worms out of thin air. A pretty interesting gimmick right there, right?**

 **Well, I hope you guys are enjoying this weird spawn from hell! Remember, you can vote for who you want to be voted off by leaving a review!**


End file.
